Moments of Friendship
by Mystery Maiden 016
Summary: After the War of the Goddess Soren and Ike's FRIENDship continues to grow. This is a series of little snippets of how that friendship is revealed to them.
1. Chapter 1

Soren watched impassively as Ike put the last of his belongings into a bag and swung it over his shoulder. "Are you finally ready to leave?" asked the arch sage using his mend staff to lever himself to his feet. Ike turned towards him with an expression of mild surprise on his craggy features.

"I'm sorry, Soren. I was…thinking" Soren's vermillion eyes roved over his friend's body trying to read his mood.

"You are having second thoughts about allowing me to accompany you." stated Soren. Ike sighed but nodded. Soren turned to study the old fort that had served as home to the branded mage for as long as he could remember. No, not quite that long. Home was that tiny cottage in Gallia that Griel had built with his own hands. That is, until Griel murdered his lovely wife Elena and fled the country. "Ike, I've followed you since I was a starving waif. What makes you think that that would change now?"

"I've gotten you into trouble lots of times, Soren" replied Ike. "When I think of the number of times you've nearly been killed because of me I feel…guilty. You should be studying magic in peace not getting involved in two wars, one of which ended up with us combating a goddess of all things." Soren's eyes swivelled to glare in Ike's direction.

"Studying? In a library?" Soren's expression was dark with fury. "Do you think me a fragile doll? Not capable of surviving the rigors of war? May I remind you, Ike, that oft times in battle it was you and not me who was bloody and torn? That it was me you came to for healing? Don't say that I should be locked away safe in a derelict library." Ike stepped back from his friend and ran his tongue over his dry lips.

"I never said that, Soren. I just don't want you hurt because of me." Soren's expression softened a little.

"You needn't worry about that. I can assure you that if I do get hurt it will purely be from my own stubbornness." Ike smiled a little.

"At least you have the stubbornness part right." Soren allowed a small smirk to turn the corners of his mouth up but then glanced over his shoulder.

"We should be leaving if you don't want to explain your departure to the others." Ike nodded and started out of the door. Soren glanced back at the dusty old fort and tried to commit every detail to memory. He knew he would never return.

* * *

><p>Soren sighed and hitched up his hood. The desert sun was miserably bright at noon but still the archsage and mercenary trudged onwards. They had to. They were low on supplies and nearly out of water. "This," puffed Ike, wiping the sweat from his face with the end of his head band. "is not what I imagined when I fantasized about leaving Tellius and all its worries behind." Soren smiled lightly and paused to wait for Ike.<p>

"Odd. This is exactly what I imagined when you said we were walking across the desert." Ike grumbled unhappily under his breath. "What was that? I didn't hear you, Ike."

"I said that you don't have to gloat." Soren glanced upward at the blisteringly hot sun then back towards Ike as he slogged through the shifting sands.

"Walk as close behind me as you can, Ike. I'll manipulate the spirits into clearing a path for you too." Ike frowned a little.

"Can you do that?" asked the man pushing his wet hair from his eyes. Soren's mouth pulled down into a tight frown.

"They won't like it but yes I can do that." Soren closed his eyes and concentrated for a long moment. Slowly his mouth began to form words though Ike couldn't hear them. Then Soren's expression grew fierce, and almost pained. Ike had just started toward his friend when a turbulent wind stirred up around them both almost like a dust devil. Ike winced when he felt the magical aura that always surrounded Soren spike and grow. The wind died in a matter of seconds. Soren opened his eyes and smiled tiredly. "You won't have anymore trouble from the sand, Ike." The mercenary nodded, knowing better than to ask what had happened. He'd never understand the explanation and his friend looked too weary to talk.

They trudged on for hours more before finally deciding to make camp. Ike set up the tent while Soren gathered what scrub he could find so that they could have a fire. When he had finally gathered all the wood there was to gather Soren set it aflame with a snap of his fingers.

"I'm heading on to bed," announced the archsage as soon as Ike had finished with the tent.

"What about supper?" asked Ike, glancing at his friend worriedly. Soren shook his head.

"Perhaps later but right now I must rest. The desert sun is not kind to one wearing heavy black robes." Ike nodded but suspected Soren's sudden exhaustion had more to do with the spirits than with the sun. He let it pass though because the mage would never admit it and had recently become very touchy if he thought someone was belittling his abilities.

* * *

><p>After five and a half days of traipsing through the desert Soren had had all he could take of sand. He swore softly to himself that if he had any say in the matter they would never travel within ten miles of the desert again. Ever. Soren glanced over his shoulder and bit his lip when he noticed that Ike's limp had gotten more pronounced. The archsage stopped and was unsurprised when the swordsman nearly walked into him. Ike hadn't spoken nor looked up from the ground in hours.<p>

"We stop here," said Soren when his friend looked up at him to see why they had stopped. Ike glanced at the sun.

"We still have hours of daylight left." Soren nodded but didn't move to continue on.

"I'm not taking another step until you tell me what is wrong with you." Ike went to shoulder past him but Soren stood firm. "Now, Ike. I want to know." Ike scowled but shrugged and gestured to his foot.

"My boot is worn through. The sand is burning my foot." Soren raised his eyebrows but pulled the mend staff from his back. Ike sighed. "There's no point, Soren. It will only burn again when we continue on."

"Take off your boot and sock." Ike rolled his eyes but complied. Soren winced when he saw the bloody and raw sole of his friend's foot. It took a great deal of endurance to walk on that. Ike breathed a sigh of relief when Soren healed the blistered mass.

"It may be temporary but damn it feels good while it lasts." Soren smirked a little but didn't comment.

"See if you can hop along and set up the tent. Then get some rest. I can't have you falling over on me. You're too fat for me to carry." Ike snorted at the idea of being fat. His bulk was pure muscle, honed to perfect fighting form.

While Ike worked Soren studied the ruined boot. The sole of it was worn into a hole as big as a gold coin. He tried tying a bit of cloth around the hole but it slipped off far too easily and wouldn't provide much protection from the scorching sand. Eventually when Ike's snores broke the stillness of the desert Soren pulled forth his last remaining tome. He silently measured the hole with his eyes then retrieved Ike's dagger and cut out a chunk of the tome's hard cover. He put that over the hole and grunted in satisfaction until he considered how he was going to affix the patch to the boot. He considered breaking the dagger and using the shards as nails but disregarded the idea when he remembered that Ike had to be able to wear the boot. Soren's eyes fell on his tome. It was still usable but wouldn't remain so for long.

When Ike woke he found Soren pouring over the tome as he hadn't since before the Goddess' War. Soren glanced up at him. "Go back to sleep. I'm not finished yet." Ike opened his mouth to protest but stopped when he noticed the deadly look in his friend's eyes. In that moment Ike was struck by the fact that Soren's eyes were redder than blood. Ike went back to sleep.

When Soren had committed every incantation to memory he snapped the tome shut and reached for Ike's dagger. It was tedious work pulling off the books binding without ruining the glue but the archsage was used to such work. Soren carefully placed a chunk of glue over the hole and melted it with a small blue flame that danced on the tip of his finger. Then before the glue could start to dry he plunked the patch on it and pressed it down perfectly. Soren glanced up to watch the pages of his tome race away, caught in a gleeful dance with the wind. Ike could walk now without discomfort.

* * *

><p>"You shouldn't have done that," said Ike, despondently. Soren sighed and licked his cracked lips.<p>

"If you say that one more time I'm going to stuff that boot down your throat and see if you can complain then."

"Well you shouldn't have," Ike stopped and swallowed when Soren stopped in his tracks. "I mean what if bandits come? How will you defend yourself?" Soren's hand drifted to his limp water skin.

"I would sing and dance if a band of bandits came upon us right now." Soren glanced at Ike. "We wont make it much farther if we don't refill our water skins." Ike grinned a little.

"Would you really sing and dance?" Soren huffed and hitched his pack higher on his shoulder.

"It was a figure of speech, Ike." The mercenary continued to smile though, feeling that for the first time since they had stepped foot in the desert he had won an exchange of words. Soren paused and reached for his water bladder. He tipped it up but all that came out was a few drops. "How much farther till that oasis we were told about?" Ike's expression turned grim.

"Three leagues." Soren sighed.

"I doubt that we'll make it that far." Ike reached for his own bladder and gave it a slight shake then handed it to Soren.

"There's a little left in it." Soren shook his head.

"You keep it. You're just as thirsty as I." Ike seized Soren by the shoulder.

"I'm not wearing black robes, nor am I commanding unwilling spirits to clear us a path. However, I have had more rest than you and am more tolerant to extreme temperatures than you. Drink the damn water." Soren hesitated but Ike's glare was uncompromising. He drank the water.

Ike watched Soren closely after that. He had first began to suspect that the archsage was weakening when he noticed that the sand wasn't skirting their feet quite as willingly. Then he had noticed that Soren was a little unsteady on his feet. He knew the truth when his friend's knees buckled and he hit the sand. Ike silently hoisted smaller man over his shoulder. Soren groaned a little and tried to protest but his throat and mouth was too dry.

Ike paced forward long after his thoughts had turned into an incoherent mess. Whenever he stumbled or fell he simply put his feet back under him, picked Soren back up and continued. The sun glared over head, watching as the two men slowly succumbed to dehydration. Light glared off the sand nearly blinding Ike and the last of Soren's control over the spirits failed him. Ike walked on. There was no room for despair or fear. There was only room for one mantra: must go on, must go on.

The blue haired man thought that it was an mirage at first. It appeared so suddenly and without the slightest thing to herald it that Ike couldn't even bring himself to hope that it wasn't an illusion. He went toward it nonetheless. It was their only chance. Ike couldn't help but weep when he touched the vegetation fed by the oasis. It was real and it was alive.

Ike quickly stumbled to the water hole and drank until he felt quite sick. Then he dipped a strip of cloth from his cape into the water and returned to Soren's side. The arch sage was pale as death but his chest rose and fell slightly. Ike held the wet cloth over Soren's lips and let it drip water into his mouth. Soren started to rouse a little. His eyes, usually so bright and clever seemed dim and confused.

"Soren?" asked Ike hoarsely. "Are you back with me?" Soren licked at the little moisture still on his lips but nodded. Ike assisted him over to the pool and helped him drink.

"Thank you, Ike," whispered Soren huskily. Ike grinned a little.

"It was my turn to save you."

A/N- I hope you liked it. I just wanted to do something to showcase Ike and Soren's friendship after Radiant Dawn. I will try to update this soon but I'm subject to the whims of my muse. If she doesn't feel like singing I can't write. = ( Anyhow I hope that you'll review. I do accept anonymous reviewers.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you hear that?" asked Ike softly. Soren didn't glance towards his companion, unwilling to reveal the game.

"They've been following us for sometime now. I think they mean to rob and kill us." Ike snorted disdainfully.

"Continent has barely emerged from the sea and already it has bandits." Ike ran his fingers over his short hunting knife. "I hate bandits." Soren glanced left and right.

"There is at least a dozen of them. All well armed. It appears that as the Goddess saw fit to resurrect them she also saw fit that they have weapons with which to kill each other." Ike frowned deeply.

"She is the Goddess of chaos. And order but I like Yune better. She hasn't tried to kill me yet." Ike grinned slightly when he heard Soren's soft chuckle. A twig snapped ahead of them at the same time a bush rustled behind them. "Soren, try and dodge through them. I'll do my best to shield you from them." The arch sage rolled his eyes but didn't comment. Ahead of them a man stepped out into the road, a large double headed axe resting on his broad shoulders.

"Halt!" called the man. "Give us your gold and you wont be hurt." Ike pulled Ragnell from his back.

"And what makes you think we have gold, stranger? We're just poor travellers searching for shelter." The man shrugged.

"I don't care if you have gold or not. That sword is worth ten bags of gold alone." Ike opened his mouth to reply but gasped in horror when the man erupted into flames, screaming and running about to put them out. Soren glanced at Ike.

"Why do you always insist on talking to them? You know they're just going to demand that damned sword." Soren made a flicking motion in the air and three bandits soared into the trees. "Pay attention to the battle, Ike!" Ike shook himself and complied, leaping into the fray with godlike fury. Soren sidestepped an arrow and ducked under an axe. Lightening smote both archer and warrior at the same instant that fire engulfed an approaching swordsman.

Ike worked Ragnell in a ballet routine casually gutting men without pause. Ragnell's tip swirled in a circular dance and gouged past a bandits parry to take him in the heart. Ike quickly stepped back into a defensive posture and parried the oncoming strikes from the remaining bandits. "How are you holding up, Soren?" Ike glanced over and was startled to see Soren's face pale and shining with perspiration. "Soren!" called Ike. "Withdraw! You've done enough here!" Ike cursed when he saw his friend's face set in grim determination. Soren had worn that expression many times in the wars that had been fought. He had worn that look after Greil died and fort was being over run. It had been the same when Ashnard had called out to him in battle, when the Black Knight had threatened to kill any standing between him and Ike, when the Goddess had pointed an elegant finger at him and promised death to the hated Branded.1 It was the look the arch sage wore when he prepared himself to die in defence of Ike. "Soren, run!" screamed Ike desperately. Soren glanced his way, his eyes widening slightly.

"Ike, watch out!" Ike turned to see a swordsman slash at his throat. He couldn't possibly bring Ragnell to bear before the bandit slashed open his throat. Ike cried out and tried to stumble backward but a bright white light obscured his vision and the smell of ozone was thick in the air. A series of thunderous booms jarred Ike's bones and blotted out the screams of the remaining bandits. When his eyes cleared, Ike saw mounds of smoking dark matter and smouldering weapons. He turned to his friend just as Soren's knees buckled.

"Soren!" Ike dropped Ragnell and rushed to the arch sage's side. His hands flew over Soren's robes searching for wounds but not finding any. Soren's face was pale as milk and his brand burned brightly on his forehead. "Soren?" The arch sage stirred a little then stilled, his eyes fluttering open.

"I'm fine, Ike," he mumbled softly. "Just used too much magic." Soren drew a shuddering breath. "Its much harder to work without a tome. Let it get away from me." Ike glanced at the smoking corpses and nodded.

"You certainly did. Did you summon all that lightening at once?" Soren nodded feebly.

"I nearly killed us both. It took all of my strength to keep the spell from firing on us." Ike helped his friend to his feet.

"Can you walk?" Soren nodded but pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb.

"Not very far though. We'll have to camp nearby." Ike nodded and Soren glanced at the sky. "Tomorrow we'll reach a settlement of some sort."

"Because bandits always camp near their prey."

* * *

><p>"How long have we been here?" Soren sipped his wine contemplatively. His carmine eyes swept the crowded tavern of beorc.<p>

"Here as in in this town or here as in on this continent?"

"Both." Soren was silent for several minutes.

"Two months for the town, three years for the continent." Ike sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair. He had discarded his headband long ago but was now starting to miss it.

"That makes us twenty-four, doesn't it?" Soren nodded, but was busy trying to catch the eye of a pretty red-haired maid. The woman finally glanced his way and blushed prettily. Soren winked at her and she motioned for him to come sit with her and her friends but the arch sage shook his head.

"What are you getting at, Ike? Twenty-four is not so old, especially for me." Ike nodded and tried not to get annoyed that Soren's gaze hadn't moved from the red-head.

"My father died when he was forty-eight." Scarlet eyes swivelled around to study the blue-haired warrior. Ike shifted a little under his friend's scrutiny. "I'm not planning on outliving my father." Soren nodded and waved at a barmaid to refill their drinks.

"I suspected that. You're a warrior with no inclination to settle down with a passel of squalling brats." Soren spooned honey into his wine. "And you're too proud to allow yourself to lose that edge you've worked so hard to perfect. The only thing I want to know is when do you plan to make your final stand?" Ike considered. He had expected a very awkward conversation with Soren skirting the subject all night, not a direct question.

"I suppose it will happen when I first notice that I'm getting slow." Soren's eyes trailed back to the pretty young maid who was laughing and tossing her hair, trying to put on a show for Soren.

"That gives us about twenty years. Not very long all things considered." Ike nodded slowly.

"But can you imagine me getting old? With an arm too weak to hold Ragnell and eyes so bad I couldn't see what I was swinging at?" Ike chuckled softly. "Can you see me with a pot belly so large that it would jiggle when I walk like Brom used to?" Soren stared without seeing at the girl. He _could_ see that. He'd spent so many sleepless nights dreading the day when Ike would be old, dying, and he, Soren, would be as spry as he always was.

"No, I can't imagine that, Ike." Soren focused back on his friend. "Promise you'll wait until I say its time? Promise you wont run off without telling me?" Ike nodded.

"I promise." He knew how difficult the coming years would be for the arch sage. It was one of the reasons that Ike had made his decision. He didn't want Soren to be trapped taking care of the crippled old man who used to be his friend. Soren stood.

"Well since that's settled I'm going to see how maidens in this country treat amorous men." Ike grinned a little.

"Do I need to have the horses saddled?" Soren laughed lightly.

"Maybe. I would hate to have to dodge the prongs of a pitchfork wielded by an angry farmer." Ike watched as Soren went and took a seat with the red-head and started to whisper in her ear. She laughed gaily and took the arch sage's hand. By the time that Ike had finished his third mug of ale Soren had led the woman outside for a night-time stroll.

* * *

><p>Ike knocked gently on the wooden door while nervously fiddling with his belt. He nudged it open with his boot and peeked in. Soren was sitting a desk beside the bed, busily scribbling in a large leather bound book. Ike kept his voice low out of deference to the tousled mop of red hair in the bed. "Soren, its time to go." The arch sage glanced up and shut the book. He bent and placed a quick kiss on the sleeping woman.<p>

"Let's go then." The friends were silent until they left the inn. "Who are we killing today?"

"Protection ring. And we're not killing them. We're convincing them that they're not good enough as fighters to charge shopkeepers for 'guarding' their stores." Soren snorted.

"So we're killing them when they don't agree with us?" Ike sighed and nodded.

"How's Alishia?" asked Ike after a few minutes silence. Soren smirked a little.

"She's doing well. Next week I'm taking her to the ocean for our three year anniversary." Ike glanced at his friend curiously.

"There are anniversaries for just courting?" Soren's smirk widened.

"You would know that if you would find a woman to bed for more than one night." Ike frowned a little but shrugged the jibe off.

"When are you going to propose to her?" The arch sage's smile faded.

"I'm not." Ike stopped midstep.

"You're not?" Soren shook his head. "Can I ask why?" Soren tapped his brand and continued walking forcing Ike to jog to keep pace. "She doesn't know what that means does she?" Another negative shake. "Then why does you lineage matter?" Ike grabbed his friend's arm and held him there.

"It matters because any child of mine would be a freak. An untouchable. I'm not doing that to her or the child." Ike scowled angrily.

"It wouldn't be a freak. No one here even knows what the Branded are. It wont matter." Soren turned and looked away, towards the morning sun.

"I am twenty-seven years old, Ike. I still look seventeen2." Ike sighed and cursed softly under his breath.

"What will you do?" Soren shrugged but Ike could see the pain in the stiffness of his posture.

"Leave her. Move on to another town far from her. I'd rather she hate me for that than for what I am."

* * *

><p>Ike stretched the ach from his muscles slowly, arching his back like he had seen cat laguz do countless times. The bright morning sun caught him in the eye and Ike groaned, wishing for the hundredth time that he had given the east facing side of the cottage to Soren. The muscular swordsman dressed quickly, hoping to get into the kitchen before Soren awoke. It was the arch sage's thirtieth birthday and Ike was determined to bake him a cake. Ike tiptoed to Soren's room and risked a peek inside.<p>

Soren was sprawled on the floor unconscious. Ike stared at the scene for a second before hurrying inside and pushing the mage onto his back. Soren's eyes were sunken and his skin feverish. Ike gently slapped Soren's cheeks waiting for a response. Soren's cardinal red eyes flickered open. His breath came in rapid gasps and Ike could feel his friend's heart fluttering like a frightened bird.

"Ike?" Soren's tongue flicked over his blue lips. "Can't breathe…help…" Ike quickly put his head on Soren's chest and winced at the ominous rattle he heard. Soren stirred weakly. "Chest…hurts…is t-tight…" Ike pulled his friend into a sitting position and Soren began to cough, trying desperately to draw a deep breath. Helpless to alleviate Soren's pain, Ike merely rubbed circles on the mage's back.

An hour later found Soren's skin a delicate blue and Ike whispering meaningless comfort to a friend he believed to be dying in his arms. Soren fought for every wisp of oxygen but it was as though a cruel spirit was reaching inside the arch sage's lungs and pulling out any oxygen. Soren leaned weakly against Ike, his chest bucking in the effort to draw breath.

"Easy, Soren, easy. Maybe it will come if you stop trying." Soren managed a laugh though it made him cough.

"If I… s-stop try-ing …I'll die." Ike closed his eyes listening to the wheezing sounds escaping his friend. "It…it will…" Soren strangled on the next word. "P-pass. I p-pro…mis." Ike sighed sadly.

"Just breathe with me. In and out. In and out." It seemed like days to Ike but in only a few hours Soren started to breath easier. He was still terribly pale but he could take a half breath without choking. Ike reached for the ewer on the nightstand and helped Soren to drink. "That was an adventure," he remarked dryly causing Soren to smirk weakly.

"It certainly was." Ike helped Soren to his feet and over to the bed.

"What was that exactly?" Soren's cunning eyes studied Ike silently.

"Something that will happen over the next few years. You needn't worry." Ike opened his mouth to protest but shut it when Soren curled up on the bed and fell immediately to sleep. Ike scowled at his friend but finally his expression softened.

"Happy Birthday, Soren."

* * *

><p>1 These are things that could've happened and I like to pretend did. I might write companion stories for them or I might not.<p>

2 My Soren hasn't aged since Path of Radiance. I like it this way because I didn't like the way he looked in Radiant Dawn. He was definitely a creeper in that game, plus he looked the same as in POR in the videos. If you like him in RD then you can imagine him like that but I'm going to describe him as in POR.

A/N- I know that this seems really plotless but I promise there's a meaning to the madness. Its just really difficult to get to since this is spanning over _decades_. It would be easier if I wanted to write it year by year but since I'm not into works that long it'll just be like this. I hope you liked it and feel free to review! (_**please?**_)


	3. Chapter 3

Soren carefully dipped his quill into his inkpot and gently dabbed away the excess ink. Every word had to be written perfectly with clear intent and flawless legibility. The words had to look like they had been written by a professional scribe so that they could be read quickly without misinterpretation. Soren felt satisfaction roll through him when he studied the rest of the carefully transcribed page. Somewhere in the cottage a door slammed shut and Soren winced. He winced even more when he noticed the large black blot obscuring a perfectly formed word. The quill snapped in the arch sage's deceptively delicate fingers.

Soren sighed through clenched teeth and started towards the door. Ike was going to pay for disturbing the peace Soren so desperately needed. Laughter echoed through the cottage and the sage stopped, listening with growing dread. It was a woman's laughter. A woman who sounded breathless.

"Ike, stop it!" giggled the voice. "I can unbutton that myself. Why don't you go and make the bed comfy?" Soren barely bit back his horrified gasp. Blood rushed to his face and the sage feverishly wished that he had went to the market like he had told Ike he would.

"As you wish my dearest Angelica!" teased Ike in his most gallant voice. "Though I hardly think you'll need the bed to be comfortable. After all the sword you should be wary of is not in the bed…yet," said Ike suggestively. The woman tittered again and Soren bolted for the window. His normally nimble fingers fumbled at the lock as the woman made lewd comments about the "sword".

"Oh please just this once, Goddess! Just this once listen to the prayers of a Branded mage!" begged Soren softly, desperately pulling at the lock. Finally the lock clicked allowing the mage to push the window up. Ike's hearty laughter followed him out the window and down the road.

* * *

><p>Ike picked at his bacon, trying not to show that he was upset. Soren stared at his own breakfast as he shovelled in food the way Ike usually would. Ike watched him for a while before he finally put down his fork. "Are you going to tell me why you're angry at me?"<p>

"No."

"That's not fair, Soren! How am I supposed to fix what I did wrong if I don't know what I did wrong in the first place?" The mage's strawberry red eyes flicked towards Ike then back to his plate.

"You could have phrased that better." Ike huffed angrily and continued to glare at Soren. The sage pushed a tomato to the side of his plate and continued to eat his eggs. Ike's stare was starting to be bothersome though. "I'm not mad at you, Ike." The warrior's expression softened to one of confusion.

"Then why wont you talk to me?" Soren set down his fork and pushed away his nearly clean plate.

"Jealousy I suppose," replied Soren quietly. "Or simple loneliness. There's always that."

"What are you talking about?" asked Ike impatiently. "You're never jealous of anyone. Especially not me. And you're always with someone whether it be me or a client." The mage glanced up wide eyed and Ike could tell that he hadn't meant to speak aloud. Soren looked away and silence reigned. "Soren?"

"Do you remember Alishia?" Ike inhaled swiftly, blindsided by the name that had become taboo to Soren. "I take it that you do?" Ike nodded and Soren toyed with a bread crumb that had fallen to the table. "Our anniversary is next week."

"You still remember when your anniversary is? That was four years ago." Soren smirked a little but it was a sad smirk full of pain.

"Ridiculous isn't it?" Ike shook his head and started to comfort his friend but Soren stood. "We have a mob of bandits to exterminate before they rob the next village over. If they succeed the townspeople will go hungry and you'll give away all of our money to feed them. I need to buy a new cloak for the winter so it would be best if we just slew the bandits." Ike frowned a little at how easily Soren could go from melancholy to crispness but didn't say anything. "First though we need to go purchase a few herbs. I've been working on channelling healing magic without the staff but I'm unreliable at best."

* * *

><p>Soren was seething. Not only had he accidentally blurted out his most personal feelings this morning but the medicine vendor had not had herbs to sell them. The man had even had the nerve to imply that it was <em>their<em> fault for using so many herbs on a daily basis.

"Its not the end of the world, Soren. Its just one battle against bandits of all things. We'll be fine." said Ike, reassuringly. "Its not like we haven't faced worse." Soren slanted a look at Ike.

"You can get hurt at anytime. Anyone can get in a lucky strike." Ike grinned at his slender friend.

"Don't worry, Soren. I'll watch your back." Soren huffed but relaxed a little.

* * *

><p>The battle was not going well. Not only were the bandits well equipped but they were also military washouts. Soren and Ike were also outnumbered twenty to one. If each bandit was not killed in a single strike they fled and healed themselves. Ike and Soren didn't have that luxury. Soren grunted as a sword slid into his leg, limiting his movement and barely missing an artery.<p>

"Soren, pull back!" bellowed Ike wounding four men with a single slash of his mighty sword. "We have to retreat!" Soren brushed his hair out of his eyes with a bloody hand.

"Its too late for that, Ike. This is the best position we're going to get." As he spoke the sage twisted away from one of the twelve men assaulting him and called down a hail of lightening. Six of the men dropped dead and the other six retreated to tend their wounds. Hurriedly, he charged Ike's position throwing balls of fire as he went. Ike saw him coming and started to slice his way towards his friend. They met in the middle and went back to back. Ike was bleeding from many small wounds and Soren was leaning heavily on one leg.

The bandits backed off for just a moment, trying to regroup. "Is this the end?" asked Ike and there was no fear in his voice. Soren licked his lips nervously and studied the bandits blossoming formation.

"Yes," replied the sage. "This next wave will bury us in numbers. We'll be cut to ribbons." Ike shifted Ragnell to his free hand and clapped Soren on the shoulder.

"Its been good to fight beside you, Soren. I'm sorry that I've led you to your death but I'm glad that you're beside me." Soren swallowed, his dragon eyes darting about calculatingly.

"Likewise, Ike." The bandits roared and charged the pair, swords leading from every side. Ike bellowed his defiance and Soren chanted desperately. Ike hacked and slashed with all the skill imparted to him by Greil and Stefan but it wasn't enough to keep a stray spear head from slipping between his ribs. The deadly blade missed the hero's great heart but tore viciously through a lung and lodged. Ike hollered in agony and broke off the spear next to its head. The warrior continued to fight though the ground tilted dangerously beneath him.

Soren was too deep in concentration to notice Ike's plight. He surely felt the sting of steel but curiously none of the attacks found a vital point. His body dodged attacks of its own volition while his mind searched for the appropriate words of power. He could feel the might flowing through his veins and felt his heart buzz with energy. Even as Ike slid to one knee the bandits backed away, terror clear on their rugged features. Ike gazed at Soren's blurry image, his reeling mind trying make sense of what his eyes were showing him. Soren floated two feet from the ground, his body encased in a flickering, transparent aura of fire while an unfelt wind blew his hair and robes. Electricity flashed between the arch sage's limbs and created little bolts of lightening that danced around his lithe frame. Soren's eyes were closed and his mouth formed words that carried no sound. Ike's vision had faded to nothingness when Soren opened his eyes and cried a word that would have incinerated lesser sages.

The bandits never understood what happened to them. The world exploded into a maelstrom of elemental magic. Demons born of wind flew down the men's throats and choked the life from them while fire rose into a huge pillar and engulfed bandits, turning them to ash in seconds. The air was rent apart with great crashing booms of sound that echoed for miles as a great hand of lightening seized the surviving men and electrocuted them to death. Their burning husks fell to the ground as the hand sizzled out and the wind demons re-emerged only to fade away. The great column of fire was gone with the same sound that a candle makes when it is blown out. When all that he had summoned had returned from whence it came Soren slowly fell to the ground, the impact jarring him not at all. Incredibly none of the vegetation on the hill was damaged by wind or fire.

Soren had never felt weaker in his life. His body burned with the overload of magic and the sage had to look to make sure that he wasn't on fire. His muscles refused to do even the simplest of tasks. The sage couldn't even find the strength to remain sitting. Wearily he slumped backwards, his vision darkening quickly. But where was Ike? Soren knew that he had maintained control over the monstrosities he had summoned. That was one reason he felt so terribly weak. If Ike hadn't been hurt by the magic then he should have come running to his friend. Soren briefly considered the possibility that Ike was afraid to approach him after his display but promptly dismissed the idea. Ike ran from nothing. But then where was he?

Slowly Soren struggled to look around. It was terribly difficult and the sage wasn't at all sure that he hadn't accidentally killed himself. Just as he was about to give up on the wearying task Soren caught sight of his friend's boot. "Ike?" asked Soren weakly, his voice barely audible. The boot didn't move so Soren marshalled his strength and tried again. The boot remained still. Soren tried to swallow but couldn't, the lump in his throat too thick. Ike was hurt.

Soren pushed himself to all fours but fell immediately. Stubbornly, he crawled toward Ike. Every movement was taxing and the sage felt sure that he would die long before he could cross the meter that separated he and Ike. When he finally made it Soren wasn't sure if he was really seeing the spear that pierced Ike's chest or if it was a trick of the spots that danced across his vision. Pale, shaking fingers reached for Ike's throat and a relieved sigh escaped the sage when he felt the sluggish beat of his friend's strong heart. Soren rubbed the fatigue from his eyes with the back of one wrist and studied his friend's wounds. Ike needed help and he needed it immediately.

"There's no help for leagues," whispered Soren to himself. He needed the sound of his own voice to organize his muddled thoughts. He almost gave up then. He almost gave up and let his friend die. It would have been much easier and he was so very tired. Soren still wasn't sure that he would make it himself. He knew he shouldn't have done the magic, knew that he hadn't been ready for it. But he had still done it to save Ike. He had called upon forces so much stronger than himself because he wanted Ike to live even if he couldn't. Soren's blood coloured eyes focused on Ike's pallid face and determination filled them. It was the same determination that had picked Soren up off the road when he had been a child dying of starvation. It was the determination that had carried him out of Melior when Daein had attacked and left such destruction in its wake. It was the determination that had forced Soren to look the Goddess in the face and sneer in defiance. It was the determination of the great, of those who were cut from a stronger finer, cloth than average folk. It was the determination of a hero.

Soren slowly hauled himself to his feet, shuddering at the way his body screamed in agony and fatigue. He carefully slung Ike's limp body over his own the way he had once seen his friend carry Greil. The sage's knees nearly buckled under the weight that would have been too much even had he been healthy. He stiffened his resolved and his joints and took one step forward. That was all that was needed. One step forward would get Ike to a healer.

* * *

><p>The woman had just put a couple of loaves of bread into the oven. It was a fine day out and she wanted to have extra food in case any of her family's friends decided to visit. Her husband would be back from the fields in just an hour and the children would be racing in from whatever mischief they were in. It was such a wonderful day. With this thought in mind the loving mother of four opened the door to go outside and swing on the porch. She hummed happily as she watched honey bees gathering small yellow balls of pollen from the clover flowers in the yard. A few golden little birds swooped through the air, snatching bugs as only they could.<p>

An odd scuffing sound interrupted the serenity of the day. The woman glanced up fearfully, wondering if the bandits had decided to loot her home. She stood swiftly not sure whether to run or not when she saw a young battered looking man stumbling towards her with another larger man slung over his shoulder. The woman was stunned that such a slight young man was carrying such a bear of a man. Then the mother saw the spear head poking out of the larger man's chest like a grotesque horn.

"By the Goddess!" gasped the woman running forward. Bandit or not the men were in desperate need of help. "Sir!" called the woman unsure how to address the men when it became obvious that the smaller man had not noticed that he had strayed into the outskirts of civilization. Soren looked up on the woman's third call. His eyes were glazed and he couldn't quite figure out what was happening. Finally one notion managed to stay in his head long enough to be conveyed.

"Help," begged Soren. "Please, please help." Golden coins appeared before the weary mage's eyes. "Pay anything. Help." The woman was sturdily built and so took Ike from Soren's failing grip. As soon as the weight was gone the sage's knees buckled and he hit the ground, reeling drunkenly. The woman cried out and tried to reach for him but he would have none of it. "Help Ike." The woman hesitated and with the last of his strength Soren summoned a coherent sentence. "Help Ike. Leave me alone and help Ike. Sell my possessions. Help Ike." Then Soren could fight the pain and darkness no longer. He keeled over and lay still.

* * *

><p>Ike lay in a fevered daze for days. The first time that he became aware it was because a stranger was pulling the spear tip from his breast. Ike screamed in pain and tried to fight but found that he was too weak to over power the man holding him down. He wailed for mercy until the wicked thing was finally pulled free then he wept in relief. His chest still hurt but it wasn't the unendurable agony of before. He passed out crying for Greil to protect him from the demon in ebon armour.<p>

His mind played wicked tricks on him, showing him terrible things. At times he dreamed that the Black Knight was attacking his mother and sister, brutally murdering them. Then the Knight would remove his helm and reveal himself to be Greil. Sometimes the great dragon king had Soren in his mighty maw and tore the sage to pieces while Soren screamed that he was the dragon king's grandson. At other times Ranulf was digging his claws into young Sothe's flesh causing the boy to screech, blood streaming from his mouth as his innards were exposed. Then Ranulf would turn on Ike while Sothe's bloodied corpse rose and attacked him as well.

Ike's fever broke a week after Soren carried him to safety. He woke to a kind looking woman with crow's feet showing around her gentle brown eyes. Her skin was tanned as a peasant's would be but she looked clean enough. The woman held a cup of water to the warrior's cracked and bloody lips allowing him to drink. When his thirst was sated she took it away and offered him a meal of broth and crackers. Ike took a cracker in fingers still weak from his ordeal but didn't eat.

"May I ask your name?" requested Ike, his voice husky with dryness. The woman smiled, her eyes crinkling pleasantly.

"Elsa. My name is Elsa. And you are Ike, correct?" Ike nodded as his eyes strayed around the room. They were alone in a small sparsely furnished room. It wasn't anything special but it had a homey feel to it. Ike could smell cinnamon in the air along with rosemary.

"Where is my companion, Elsa? He's a smallish man with dark hair and a red tattoo on his forehead…" Ike trailed off seeing her suddenly sad expression. "Elsa?"

"I am sorry but your friend is gone from here." Ike choked, staring at the woman with wide eyes.

"I don't understand," whispered Ike, tears filling his blue eyes. "How did I get here then? I remember seeing him! He was alive! He killed all of those bandits." Ike choked back a sob. "Soren can't be dead." Elsa's eyes widened and she swiftly shushed him.

"I'm sorry, my dear. You misunderstood me. He dragged you here but you were both so terribly hurt. He was dying just as swiftly as you were. My husband and I couldn't take care of you both and he begged us to leave him - to save you. We couldn't though, he was such a courageous young man. So we sent our oldest boy to the nearest neighbour and that is where your friend is. You simply couldn't be moved, Ike, but your friend could." Ike slumped back fatigue and relief wearying him terribly.

"Is he going to be alright?" Elsa frowned a little and shrugged.

"I don't know. Your wounds were obvious. It was no mean feat to keep you alive but we knew what was ailing you. Your friend had many wounds yes but none that we saw could hurt him so badly."

"He'll live," said Ike suddenly. "Soren's too damn stubborn to die. How far is it to your neighbour's home?" Elsa thought for a moment and was just about to answer when a voice came from the door.

"Too far. Especially on the back of that ridiculous mule." Ike turned towards the door and smiled at the sight that greeted him. Soren looked like he had been ill and he was leaning heavily on a crutch but he was alive. He had bathed recently and had his clothes washed so that he didn't look as bad as he could've. His skin was terribly pale and his eyes had dark circles under them but Ike knew that the mage looked better than he did.

"You scared me," said Ike bluntly though he smiled hugely. Soren's eyebrows shot up then came together in a scowl.

"You? Who had to look over and see that you had grown a spear in your chest?" Ike shrugged then winced as the movement jarred his wound.

"We're not even discussing what I saw prior to my nap."

A/N- So there's the next chapter! Tell me if you like this chapter better than the others. I liked the little snippets ideas but I feel like they make it really choppy and uninformative. I personally thought that right about the time I got into what was happening it was time to move on to the next scene. So I decided to try this instead. If you like this I'll keep writing this. If you don't I'll go back to what I was doing before.


	4. Chapter 4

"Have you gathered those herbs yet?" asked Soren tersely. Ike sighed wearily and dipped a cloth in a bowl of water.

I haven't had the opportunity," he replied quietly. "And honestly, there are no more herbs to gather. Too many people are sick, Soren." As he spoke Ike tried to ignore the stench of sickness that pervaded the air.

"Well you must find more," snapped the arch sage. "Too many have died already, Ike." Ike slapped down the cloth, too tired to care when the wet slap caused his patient to wake.

"You think I don't know that? I can't find what isn't there." Soren drew a sheet over the limp body of a young woman.

"I don't mean to be cross, Ike. Go home and rest a while. I'll finish up here. I'll be home when the next shift comes to relieve me." Ike hesitated unwilling to leave Soren alone to deal with the ailing victims of the plague. The warrior was tired though and Soren looked spry enough.

"I'll see you at home then." Soren's dark eyes watched as Ike slung his cloak over his shoulders and left. As soon as the hero was gone Soren slumped onto the chair stationed beside the dead woman. The sage found it hard to believe that just three weeks ago the town had been healthy. When the first family had fallen ill the town healer had treated them swiftly but to no avail. Their fevers had soured while their breath came in ragged gasps. That accompanied with the dehydration that came with chronic vomiting the people hadn't stood a chance. Because of his vast knowledge of battlefield herbs Soren had been elected the new healer when the previous had fallen dead on the job. He hadn't slept in three days.

The sun was at its apex the next day when a group of courageous young maidens decided to brave the quarantine Soren had set up. By that time four more patients had succumbed to respiratory distress. Sometime in the evening a crew would arrive to take the bodies for cremation. The way home had never seemed longer to the sage. A headache had built behind his eyes during the night making the bright sunlight almost too much to bear. He noticed that Ike was fixing lunch judging by the smoke coming from the chimney. As he had the thought his stomach rumbled for sustenance. He had trouble stomaching food while tending to the sick so it had been quite sometime since he had eaten. Soren let himself into the cottage and tossed down his bag. The fire was burning low with a definite lack of food upon it. The air was stiflingly hot, forcing Soren to roll his sleeves up.

"Ike?" called the arch sage cautiously. Soren knocked on Ike's door before pushing his way into the bedroom. Ike was a quivering lump huddled beneath every blanket in the house. Soren cursed angrily and rushed to his friend's side. Ike's brow was hot with fever while his bangs hung in wet navy clumps. Ike pulled from Soren's touch with a mumbling groan then pitched onto his side and vomited. Soren peeked over the bed, relieved to find a bucket bedside the bed rather than a puddle of sick. Soren vented silently to himself while he went to fetch water for Ike. The man had obviously known he was getting sick or else the bucket wouldn't have been beside the bed. It was something Ike had forgotten to mention while they were at the quarantine site.

While outside he spotted a lone child walking with his dog. "Boy," called Soren. The lad turned and headed towards the mage, little dog yipping excitedly. "Run to the quarantine and tell the nurses that I won't be coming in for a few days."

"What about the ill?" asked the child. "My little sister is there."

"The nurses will do exactly as I would," snapped Soren impatiently. "Right now though my friend is sick." The boy's face scrunched up in anger but Soren didn't wait for him to speak.

Soren treated Ike to the best of his knowledge for two days before it became obvious that Ike was going to succumb to the disease that had already claimed so many. Soren silently scrubbed at his sore eyes as he watched Ike toss feebly. Ike was going to pass soon unless the arch sage found a way to avoid it. His healing magic wouldn't work on the sickness that plagued Ike. He had already tried twisting his power to aid Ike's body but to no avail. There was only one thing to be done.

Soren went to his desk and pulled open its drawer, staring at the innocent potato like tuber sitting there. Ike groaned in the other room. Soren snatched the tuber and took it to the kitchen. Crushing every drop of moisture from the plant's hard flesh was difficult work that left Soren wiping at the sweat on his brow. The plant had a foul smell that made the arch sage want to gag. When he was finished Soren took the tiny vile he had filled with the juice and went to Ike.

"Can you hear me?" asked Soren quietly. He gave Ike a gentle shake. Ike groaned in response. "What I'm about to give you may kill you, Ike. But if I don't do it you'll die for certain." Soren's scarlet gaze studied Ike's weakened body. The power that made Ike great was still visible in his strong muscles. While not a young man, Ike still had at least a decade before his body would even begin to show its age. Knowing Ike as well as he did Soren knew it would likely take much longer. But that wouldn't matter if Ike was murdered by a sickness he had contracted standing by Soren's side. "Forgive me," mumbled Soren before pinching Ike's nose and pouring the liquid into Ike's gasping mouth. The warrior tried to reject the foul medicine but Soren clamped his hand over Ike's mouth and waited. Soren was unnerved by how weak his friend's shoves were. Ike should have been able to throw Soren into the wall with a single hard push. Instead the sage was barely moved. A few minutes later Ike's body relaxed and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The warrior's face slackened in unnatural sleep. Soren swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. All that was left to do was wait.

The medicine worked by attacking what had caused Ike's illness with all the ferocity Ike had ever battled the Black Knight with. It would be a useful herb if it didn't have the nasty habit of killing more than three quarters of the people administered it. Soren thought that maybe it caused the bodies defences to stop recognizing friend from foe causing it to destroy itself but that was just his conjecture. No one knew enough about the body to really know how the herb worked.

After poisoning Ike the arch sage retired to his room to rest. He hated to leave Ike alone but if he had to sit for hours and wait for Ike to stop breathing he'd likely call a lightening strike upon himself. There was nothing to be done anyway and it had been far too long since he had slept deeply. When he awoke Ike was still comatose. The man hadn't even reacted when Soren had poked the bottom of his foot with a pin. Dinner was ash in Soren's mouth while he waited for Ike to recover. Eventually the sage dozed off again.

Soren came awake slowly, his body aching fiercely. His chest was sore without cause. Soren frowned and shifted to a more comfortable position. He wasn't frightened by the thought that he may be falling ill. If Ike died Soren planned to follow him swiftly. Without Alishia to love and bereft of Ike's friendship Soren was more than willing to take his last breath. The morning sun was poking at his eyelids trying to push him to action. The Branded man opened his eyes and looked to Ike to see if the man had survived the night.

Ike was watching him silently. "Do I want to know what you were thinking?" asked Ike as Soren sat up and stretched.

"How long have you been awake?" Ike tried not to be annoyed at Soren's neat evasion.

"Off and on since last night. I didn't want to wake you." Soren filled a cup with water and helped Ike to drink.

"Wake me next time. I don't need sleep that badly."

"Good," grunted Ike as Soren helped him sit up. "Because I'm in terrible need of a loo." Soren chuckled lowly then started to cough. Ike frowned at him worriedly. "I didn't get you sick, did I?" Soren waved the question off. Ike wriggled out from under the blankets and shivered when air brushed across his skin.

"I'm part dragon, Ike. Even if I get sick it will not kill me." Ike listed weakly against Soren as they walked to the bathroom.

"You're a damned liar," mumbled Ike grumpily. Soren smirked.


End file.
